


Won't You Let Me Go?

by Theworldisours



Series: Songs of Ice and Fire [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breaking Up & Making Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-08-22 07:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theworldisours/pseuds/Theworldisours
Summary: Maybe it was stupid of him but when Jon drove back to town—his car eating up precious money in gas as he drove through the familiar streets he had left behind years ago—, he hadn’t considered running into Robb. That didn’t mean he didn’t remember him, how could he forget the afternoons they spent sitting in the hood of that same old car, watching as the sky got covered with stars, and then forgetting to look anywhere but each other. Of the plans they had made back then watching cars pass them by, the way his hands felt on Jon’s face, warm and tender, the first time they kissed, of how warm he could make Jon feel even in the coldest winter nights.





	1. We Ain't Ever Getting Older

**Author's Note:**

> This one was inspired by Closer by The Chainsmokers, which wouldn't get out of my head until I wrote something to it.

Maybe it was stupid of him but when Jon drove back to town—his car eating up precious money in gas as he drove through the familiar streets he had left behind years ago—, he hadn’t considered running into Robb. That didn’t mean he didn’t remember him, how could he forget the afternoons they spent sitting in the hood of that same old car, watching as the sky got covered with stars, and then forgetting to look anywhere but each other. Of the plans they had made back then watching cars pass them by, the way his hands felt on Jon’s face, warm and tender, the first time they kissed, of how warm he could make Jon feel even in the coldest winter nights.

That, and more came back to his mind when he saw him, sitting in the bar, looking as good as ever. All at once he remembered the taste of his kisses, the way Robb’s body felt; warm and inviting against him in the familiar cold mornings, the sound of his laugh, happy and deep, the smell of the cologne he had used since high school, the way it used to make him want to bury his head on Robb’s neck and stay there for as long as he could. He remembered late autumn mornings, stolen kisses and the taste of coffee before one of them ran to get to class in time.

He stared at Robb until his gaze turned to him, still standing there he watched as recognition crossed his face. Unsure of what to expect he shifted on his feet, fighting the urge to fix his unruly hair, he told himself to turn his gaze elsewhere, to look to any of the other people talking and drinking, to the drinks being served and all the different stages of flirtation going on around them but he couldn’t. Robb looked him up and down, then smirked, biting his lip the same way he used to when he got _ideas_ and raised his glass towards him. Jon licked his lip, feeling warmth spreading through his cheeks and a shiver running down his back.

He made his way towards Robb, forgetting the reasons why it was a bad idea. Robb ordered a drink, and Jon got there in time to hear him ask one for him too.

They drank and they talked, forgetting the years that had separated them. The fact that they avoided mentioning them made Jon feel as guilty as those first weeks of moving away, of breaking Robb’s heart and never calling.

Even then the conversation continued, Robb talked about his friends and Jon pretended he didn’t hate them, they talked about their lives and pretended not to notice how different they were. Most of all, he pretended not to want to kiss him right there in that bar, to feel the stubble he could see on his chin and cheeks against his skin as he took off Robb’s clothes. He wondered what it would be like to feel Robb’s hands on him again, in the back of his mind he asked himself why he had ever left.

He must’ve let it on somehow, because Robb looked at him and smirked, in that moment Jon knew it would happen.

Robb still kissed like he remembered, giving his all into the kiss, like he needed him to breathe, and it still made Jon feel weak. His hands touched Jon’s cheeks, tenderly at first, but once they moved to his hip all the tenderness was gone.

Jon tried not to let out any reaction as Robb pulled him into the car that his father had bought him, it was easy when Robb attacked him again, his mouth and hands searching for any skin they could find.

Jon didn’t show him any tenderness either, he gripped Robb’s arms and bit at the spot on his neck that used to make him tremble. Robb let out a ragged breath against his skin and Jon smirked while he tried to take out his jacket. It took more effort than he thought it would, and Robb had to sit up to take it off.

He could remember doing that, years ago, and wearing it himself, letting the smell fill his nose and trying not to let on how much he loved that before he remembered Robb knew, he had looked down then, to where Robb was watching him with the most trusting, vulnerable, and loving blue eyes he had ever seen, it was almost enough to make his own eyes water. He had kissed Robb before that happened, with all the tenderness he could muster, like they had all the time in the world.

Now they knew there was no time, and it showed. But Jon still wasn’t going to do that in Ned Stark’s car.

Robb didn’t wait much after they crossed the door to his apartment before taking off his shirt and kissing Jon again, he had gotten a tattoo on his ribs but Jon hadn’t stopped to inspect it, instead he helped him off his pants and pushed him down the bed before following him.

Robb’s nails dug into his skin as they moved, his lips and teeth leaving marks all over Jon’s body as he touched him in all the right places, like he still knew him, like he had kept a map of his body and was tracing the lines he had carved into his memory. Like Jon did.

Jon felt high, little to do with the drinking and much to do with Robb, his body, his taste, his touches, his smell. The way they still knew exactly how to drive each other crazy after all these years.

He would remember, later, the reasons why he left. The fights, his dreams and hopes against Robb’s certainties, Robb’s fancy clothes and the car his father _lent_ him, the way he gave all of himself to everything, to Jon, and the way he seemed not to notice how it affected people around him. How he wanted to go faster when Jon wanted to slow down, the way he was truly and unapologetic satisfied with where he was, with who he was, when Jon wasn’t.

That didn’t seem to matter now, not for him, and certainly not for Robb as he moaned against Jon’s mouth.

He did notice the tattoo on Robb’s ribs later, as he lay next to him, trying to find the right words and coming up with nothing but awkward silence. He moved his hand towards it, hesitating in the last second before his fingertips touched the ink of the wolf drawn in careful lines, he looked at Robb, unsure if the contact was wanted and swallowed as he noticed how quickly they had gone from passionate ( _ex-_ )lovers to the relative strangers recklessly falling together that they were.

Robb swallowed, looking down at Jon’s hand. “I lost a bet.” He said in a low tone, so unlike the one he’d use years ago in the same situation. Jon could see it, could imagine the laughs his friends shared as Robb tried not to give them the satisfaction of showing pain. It was the kind of stupid thing he— _they_ sometimes did. Like having sex with their ex after seeing them for the first time in years.

He could remember himself clearly, years ago, doing the same thing. Making out in the backseat of his beaten down car after a fight with Robb, regretting it as soon as it was over, and then doing it all over again.

He regretted it now, tracing the wolf, feeling the tension growing in the air as his eyes meet Robb’s. He could see it happening, all over again, could remember the mistakes they made, the fights they had, the reasons it hadn’t worked out. He knew even then he’d have done it all again, made the same mistake—this same mistake— as though nothing had ever changed. As if they were still the kids they had been, skipping class to make out in Robb’s bed while his roommate was out.

His hand still hovered the tattoo as he kissed the corner of Robb’s mouth, stubble scratched his skin as Robb moved, their lips touched and their eyes met one last time before they started it all over again.


	2. The Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this **was** supposed to be about unrelated one shots (in case you've read chapter one and are confused) but I had an idea for a sequel I guess this is it then. I apologize for the people to whom I said there'd be no sequel, I clearly have no control.  
>  Now, a few notes, this is Robb's pov, and it deals with their issues and the breakup(s), though I don't mention Jon's parents in this, you can assume it's as messy as canon and that's why he has all those identity issues. I also don't mention them being cousins, so I'm hand waving that, but it could also be one of their issues, whatever feels right to you.

When Robb left home that night he hadn’t planned to hook up with Jon—though hooking up with _someone_ was at least in part why he chose to sit alone in that bar; looking from one bored face to another searching for someone who’d catch his attention. When Jon walked through that door, as though he had never left, he drew Robb in to him like so many times before.

He hated the look on his face, as if Robb was a ghost, like seeing him there was an imaginable surprise. Perhaps he was taking Jon back in time the same way Jon was taking him, he thought, maybe they still had that effect on each other, that thing that made it so hard to turn away.

Jon had changed. He could see it in the way he walked to him when Robb put his glass up, could see the difference in his eyes even as they sent the same look Robb had seen on them a thousand times before. He knew how that night was going to end, maybe he knew the second he saw Jon, but it was only then that he was sure, when Jon laughed with him; body leaning towards Robb, lips curving into a thin smile as the laugh died that made Robb want to kiss and bite them.

When Robb woke up next morning it was with Jon across from him on his bed, he hadn’t expected it to last all night—he could remember walking out as soon as Jon fell asleep once, a revenge for him doing same a week before.

He hadn’t expected Jon to still be there, and he couldn’t tell if it was relief that he felt when he realized it wasn’t over. Yet. They had drifted apart during the night, the blankets forgotten somewhere in the floor where they had fallen when they were too busy with each other.

The bed had been warm a few hours earlier but now the cold had claimed it. Robb tried not to read too much into it as he listened to the muffled sounds of the city waking up outside the walls of his apartment.

He realized a bit too late that Jon was only pretending to be asleep, and he wondered why he bothered; whether he wanted to flee for the door as soon as Robb got up or if he was trying to decide what to say.

He didn’t let Jon know he knew he was awake, instead he got out of bed with a sigh, feeling the cold air on his skin as he walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him to give Jon the space he needed to run or gather his thoughts. Gazing at his reflex in the mirror, he listened for the sounds of footsteps towards the door, wondering if he wanted to hear them or not.

It made him feel stupid that after all this time he still didn’t know what he wanted from this, a swift end to years of coming right back to where they left things or for… for what, exactly? He asked himself, what did he see in the future for Jon and him?

His reflection was of little help in getting any answers, not that he expected to find them now when for years he had been asking the same questions. Wasn’t he supposed to be older and wiser now?

Jon was still there when Robb left the bathroom, wearing only his underwear and the shirt he wore last night, if a little more rumpled.

“Good morning,” Jon said without meeting his eyes, his voice still had that rough edge it got in the mornings, making Robb think about all those other mornings in all those different rooms in different times of their lives, of all the things it had made him feel.

“Surprised you’re still here,” Robb said ignoring the way Jon’s eyes lingered on his still naked body.

Jon snorted. “I am too, if we’re being honest.”

“Are we?” Robb retorted, snappier than he wanted to sound as he looked for clothes.

“I didn’t plan this.” He said drily.

Robb decided to stay away from the bed and from his discarded clothes, instead pulling a pair of sweatpants to cover himself and only then reaching for his shirt next to Jon’s feet. “Would be difficult to, since you haven’t called me in years.”

Jon sighed, like he had been expecting that. “I didn’t change my number Robb.”

“I wasn’t the one who—”

“Let’s not do this,” Jon said, getting up, “I’m sorry I didn’t call, I really am.”

Robb believed him. He didn’t particularly wanted to, but he did. “I’m sorry for not calling too.”

“I guess I just didn’t know what to…”

“You seemed to know exactly what to do last night.” Robb teased before he could help himself, Jon looked down smiling, it almost felt like old times.

“Did you ever think this is where we’d end up?” Jon asked, raising his head to look at Robb.

“Playing this little game for years?” He sat next to Jon in the bed, ignoring the voice in his head telling him what a bad idea that was. “No, I didn’t.”

“What are we still doing here?” Jon asked, seemingly more to himself than to Robb. Robb had no answer for that.

“Is this the time where we agree this is the last time, and then meet again a few months later and do it all over again?” Jon asked then.

Robb laughed without humor, it seemed like something they’d do. “Maybe it should be,” he said, softly, turning to face Jon, “the last time.”

Jon’s grey eyes seemed to hold a storm, Robb kept his gaze firm, as though looking away would mean to give in to it. Whatever that meant.

“Is it crazy that…” His voice drifted off for a second, “I’m not sure I can promise that.”

Robb didn’t know if it was a question, didn’t know how to answer to that question, he always thought Jon was the sane one between the two, and if it made him crazy, what did it make of Robb?

He had told himself over and over that it was the last time, that he and Jon were in the past. That even if he walked back into his life, with his dark curls, grey eyes, and that damn smile, that he’d still wouldn’t give in. That he was over Jon.

What did it make him when he was telling himself all that once more in the very same room they had come together again? A room they apparently couldn’t seem to find their way out of.

“You stayed away for years.” Robb said, it felt easier to say that but his throat was still dry around the words.

“Not… being with you is easy when I’m away,” Jon said, Robb tried not to cringe, “but I-I can’t stay away forever.”

“I don’t want you to.” Robb admitted after a heartbeat.

“I don’t want to, either,” Jon said, avoiding Robb’s eyes again.

“So,” Robb said, because what else could he say?

“So,” Jon repeated.

“I don’t suppose we could be just friends, right?” He joked.

“I think we burned that bridge long ago.” Jon said, a smile a bit too fond on his lips.

Yes, Robb remembered exactly how they burned that bridge, sixteen and full of nerves, kissing Jon as though it was the first time, fumbling fingers undoing his zipper. A moan caught in his throat.

He remembered lying next to him on his bed that night, wondering what they had done, if they could ever go back. In a way, it seemed right that they would end up here.

“Do you regret it?” He asked.

Jon seemed to know the question was coming. “I miss us, from before. But I don’t think that was a mistake. Maybe we just… did it the wrong way.”

Robb snorted. “Well, we don’t do it the ‘ _wrong way’_ anymore.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jon said, sounding more upset than the amused Robb was hoping for.

“How would the right way be, then?” Robb asked, more serious now.

Jon shrugged. “Maybe… maybe we rushed things, trying to become what we thought we should be instead of being us.”

Robb could see that, his sixteen-year-old-self rushing along, trying to be like his parents, to be the boyfriend he thought Jon deserved, to give him everything he could want when all Jon had ever wanted from him was just _him_. Forgetting that before all that Jon was his best friend, the one who had seen at his best and worst and stood by him, letting their differences drive an edge between them instead of bringing them closer like it had before.

“I think that’s my fault.”

“It’s not,” Jon said, “you were just so… sure of what you wanted, who you wanted to be, of everything, I had no idea of what I was going to do. I felt like I was holding you back, like _we_ were holding us back. I needed time and you… you don’t take time Robb.”

“We didn’t hold each other back,” he said, a bit offended, “most of the time you were the only person pushing me forward.”

“I think we needed to know who we were apart, before figuring out who we were together.” Jon said, sounding tired.

“I knew who I was.” Robb argued.

“I didn’t, Robb, and I thought… I thought you were missing out on a lot of things to be with me, I wasn’t sure if you were in love with me or with the idea of me anymore.”

The argument wasn’t entirely new to Robb, but it still stung as much as when Jon first threw it at him in one of their arguments.

“I always loved you Jon,” Robb said, meeting his eyes to let him know how sincere he was being, “you may not have known who you were but I did, I still do. I get that you wanted to find yourself, but you didn’t need to leave me behind for that.”

Jon seemed to consider that. “I wanted to be the person you saw, but I wasn’t sure I was, Robb, I don’t think I could’ve been sure if I were with you.”

Robb let the words hang in the air, letting the silence stretch as he thought back to the time things were—or at least seemed to be—simpler.

“Did you find yourself out there then?” Robb asked, “Or are we going to keep going at this until we’re seventy and you realize no matter how you think you don’t match up with the image I have of you, I’ll still love you anyway?”

Jon chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s really sad or romantic that you think we’ll keep this up until we’re seventy,” his voice was breaking but he still tried to make it seem like a joke, Robb felt like punching and kissing him at the same time.

“Did you though?” Robb repeated.

“I’m not sure I ever will,” Jon said, his eyes a little lost at the admission, Robb put his hand on Jon’s almost by reflex, he hated seeing him like that, “but I’m at peace with that, with who I… think I am, who I want to be. I know I don’t want to be seventy and doing _this_.”

“What do you want then?” Robb asked, something like hope fluttering in his chest as the words left his mouth.

“What do _you_ want?” Jon asked right back, holding his breath, Robb wondered if this was an apology, for deciding it was over without talking it through, for walking out, and back and out again, for putting himself first. (Didn’t he know he didn’t have to apologize for that?)

“I don’t know.” Robb answered, and he could tell Jon would laugh before he did; before he threw his head back and came back teary eyed. Robb laughed too, at Jon, at himself, at the whole situation.

“I don’t think this was the last time, do you?” Jon asked finally, gripping hard at Robb’s hand.

“No,” Robb said slowly, letting out a deep breath and pulling Jon closer again, “I don’t think it was the last time at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Tell me what you guys think of the ending.  
> You can find me on[ tumblr. ](http://www.lyannasjon.tumblr.com)


End file.
